Reflections
by Shalla Neltrina
Summary: A look at how the events of FY, namely Nakago, have shaped the TetsuyaYui relationship.


Disclaimer—_Fushigi Yuugi_ does not belong to me.

**Reflections**

"Why don't you ever take those stupid things off?" she asked, glancing sideways at him before returning her attention to the road.

"Hmm? What?" She sighed; he had been up last night packing her things so they could leave early. She had given up and gone to sleep; packing always made her upset—change was intimidating. She _did_ feel bad that he hadn't gotten much sleep, but after all she hadn't forced him to stay up, and what would it have mattered if they left a little later, anyway?

"The sunglasses," she said impatiently. "Nobody can see what you're thinking. You look like an idiot." She didn't really think he looked like an idiot; it was just incentive for him to take them off. She didn't like that he could have expressions she couldn't see.

He grunted in response and she sighed again. Was there something so bad about wanting to see how he felt about her? She didn't have anything to hide behind, why should he?

She suddenly remembered she owed him money. She hated being in anyone's debt: it meant they held something over her. She reached into her purse and pulled out two ¥1000 banknotes. "Here."

"What's this for?"

"You paid for my book last week, remember?" Actually it had been ¥2433, but she hoped he wouldn't remember; she didn't have any change, and besides, she'd cook him something to make up for it.

He grunted again and she saw him stuffing the note into his pocket.

"Oh, don't do that!" she cried. "They'll get all wrinkled. And they might fall out, and you might lose them. Fold them up like a normal person." She'd read that paper money lasts longer if it's not folded too much. She watched, oddly pleased, as he put the money into his billfold; she was always surprised when he did as she asked.

He lay back again and closed his eyes. She tried to just drive and let him sleep, but whenever she was alone she began to think—she didn't want to look too hard at what she was feeling.

"Tetsuya..." She panicked as he didn't wake up. "Hello? Tetsuya!"

"What?"

She sighed in relief as he answered. She turned her worry into anger. "You're ignoring me."

"What?"

"You're ignoring me!" She made her voice pouty and singsongy. She knew she was being bitchy, but she hated showing Tetsuya how much she needed him, and the bitchy made her feel better about being vulnerable. "You should stay awake and talk to me!"

"Okay," he said. "What do you want to talk about?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, Tetsuya! How like a _man_. I don't want to talk _about_ anything; I just think that you should be social. You never want to just talk." She frowned. He never wanted to just talk about nothing: random bits of his life, stories, his past. Constant talk filled up her mind, preventing her from brooding. "God, Tetsuya, you're so _selfish_ sometimes."

"We talk," he said.

"Never mind. That's not the point. The point is that you're selfish."

She often told him he was selfish, but he never changed. It seemed he never thought about what she was thinking; that maybe her words hid something more. She couldn't show her feelings anymore, it was too painful. Why couldn't he see that?

"I don't think that's true," he said carefully.

She huffed. Of course he didn't think so. No one would think that of himself; that's why she had to point it out. "_Of course_ you don't think it's true. You only think good things about yourself."

"Well," he grinned. "Somebody has to be self-confident and optimistic around here."

She hated when he said things like that. Did he think it was fun for her to be pessimistic? She wished he wouldn't draw attention to her lack of confidence either; she knew he was joking, but when his comments happened to confirm her worst fears, it hurt. "You are so conceited sometimes," she said, her tone cruel in an attempt to make him feel as badly as she did.

He didn't answer her and for a time they were silent.

She disliked silences in general, but they were better when she had someone to share them with. She really enjoyed spending time with him.

He spoke up. "The scenery is pretty."

"Not really." She wondered if he was even looking at the scenery or just trying to find something to talk about. "I don't understand why people don't take better care of their lawns."

She sometimes wondered why he didn't rise to the bait she deliberately set out. At least an argument would result in a real conversation instead of untrue and inane comments about the scenery.

"There's a fountain. I didn't know that was there."

"Of course not." If he didn't notice how insecure she felt, how damaged and alone, then how could he possibly notice a fountain in plain sight? "You're not very observant. It's been there for several weeks now."

"It's very pretty."

"Pretty?" She laughed. She _sometimes_ thought it was adorable when he said things like that. "You can be so _girly_ sometimes."

"Look—that building is really interesting."

"It looks _modern_." She was certain they had had this conversation before.

"Don't you like modern things?"

"No," she said shortly, "I've told you that before." She huffed in annoyance. "See? You don't listen to me."

"Look... Just because I don't remember everything you say doesn't mean that I don't pay attention."

She gave him a disgusted look. "I remember what _you_ say. If I can do it, I don't see why you can't." Her father had always told her that you remember what is important to you. Obviously, he was more important to her than she was to him. She snarled viciously at the dashboard. She loved him; she required that he love her back. "It's because you're selfish. You never think of anybody but yourself. If you cared about me, you would remember what I tell you."

He didn't answer. It didn't really surprise her. It seemed she was the only one to invest anything into their relationship. Sometimes she wondered what it was he was using her for—if maybe there was something he wanted to get that somehow required her. He clearly didn't enjoy spending time with her and wasn't even paying attention to her when they were together, so there had to be something he was after.

He was silent for a moment and then pulled out a bag of _Koara no Māchi_ and started stuffing cookies into his mouth. She was getting angry. He'd rather eat fattening cookies than actually discuss their relationship?

"God, Tetsuya, you're always eating. You're going to get really obese."

"I haven't slept. I need energy."

"Well, those are really high in saturated fat."

"Are they?"

She could tell he didn't care, so her voice gained an edge. "Yes."

"Oh."

He wasn't listening to her again. The least he could do was listen to her. Nakago had listened to her. Did he not even care for her as much as Nakago had? She really didn't like that thought; it made her feel worthless and desperate for attention and approval. "You're not listening to me!" she cried, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

He sat up. "What's the matter?" he asked.

She didn't say anything, more upset than she wanted to admit that she'd had to work so hard to get a reaction from him.

"I can... stop eating the cookies?" She sighed in annoyance and refused to look at him; was that what he thought she was upset about? Did he know her at all?

"Look, Yui... Yui-chan..." he put a hand on her arm.

She flung it off; she didn't need his affected pity. "God! Don't touch me when I'm driving! We'll crash the car! Do you really want that on your conscience?!" Anything he did now was just because she had gotten upset. But did he ever stop to think about what wouldn't make her upset to begin with? He didn't really care what she was feeling, he just wanted to make himself feel better for being an ass.

He turned and looked out the window. Now he wasn't even going to try to talk to her. Of course, she wouldn't respond if he'd tried, but at least then she'd know that he cared for her enough to try.

She focused on the road; it wasn't like she stayed silent when she was angry to punish him. Although that's probably what he thought when he played the victim. She said things she regretted when she was angry—her silence was to save his feelings.

He lay against his pillow and closed his eyes. Of course he would try to avoid the situation by sleeping. She sighed, maybe that was for the best. If he wasn't awake she could focus on something other than her anger at him.

As she listened to him snoring, she felt her chest grow tight. She loved him more than she could ever say. It was so unfair. Why should anyone else have that power over her—it hadn't worked out so well with Tamahome, after all.

She forgot about being angry after a while. Some good songs were on the radio and she felt so much better just singing along with them. She noticed he wasn't snoring anymore, and looked over as he sat up.

"Hey!" She smiled at him, reaching out her right hand to run it through his hair.

He grinned back at her. She felt so free when she wasn't angry, but she knew that that was when people take advantage of you. She trusted him though; he would protect her.

"Oooh!" she said excitedly. "Listen to this song! It's really good." She really liked sharing things she liked with him.

He listened. "I like that," he said.

They talked about the song for a while. She had brought a CD player in the car, so she asked him to dig around in the back seat until he found it. He also found a box full of jewel cases, and she told him to play the Amuro Namie CD, which he did.

He told her it wasn't bad, and she beamed. "See?"

When it was over, he asked her if she wanted to listen to Misora Hibari. "She's really cool," he explained. "And really influential, too."

She wrinkled her nose. She didn't really feel like listening to Misora Hibari. "She's dead and boring. And you know I hate _enka_—it's so sappy."

The conversation went on, and they laughed and talked.

She pulled over at a gasoline stand.

"Do we need gas?" he asked.

"We've traveled exactly half way," she answered; she'd been keeping track. "It's your turn to drive. But you'd better fill it up with gas, anyway, since we're here."

She got out of the car and watched while he pumped gas. She knew how to pump gas, but she'd read somewhere that men like to show their manliness and she assumed that pumping gas was manly.

"You can go inside," he said.

"No," she answered. She never went anywhere by herself. _He should know that_ She could see a few strange men in the store, and couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching her. She knew intellectually that it was very unlikely, but that just wasn't enough for her.

As he screwed on the gas cap, she thought she might as well pay for the gas with her credit card. She didn't have any change, and she knew he had cash to pay her back. She swiped her credit card. The total was ¥3690.

"You owe me ¥1845," she said. "And don't try to get out of it; I know how stingy you are."

He returned the two ¥1000 notes.

"I don't have change," she said quickly.

"Don't worry about it," he answered.

She stood by the car door and waited for him to open it for her, then watched as he adjusted the driver's seat so she would know how to fix it later. When he finished, she turned and buckled her seatbelt with deliberate care.

"Be careful," she warned, as they turned out of the parking lot. "Tetsuya! I said be careful. You can't take corners that sharply. What would happen if we got into a crash?" Apparently, he would only listen to her after they'd crashed the car.

He said nothing.

"Did you know that you snore?" she asked.

"No."

"You do. It's very annoying." It was annoying, but she liked it when he snored, it reassured her that he was there and that he was asleep. For some reason she was always afraid he was just pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't have to talk to her.

"Oh," he said, "I'm sorry you were bothered."

She wasn't bothered, but she couldn't say that at this point without looking like she was backing down. She glanced away, wondering if he thought she was mad, and caught sight of the speedometer. "Tetsuya! Slow down!"

"What?" he asked. He looked at the speedometer. "What are you talking about?"

"You're_speeding_." She did trust Tetsuya, but she couldn't help but imagine worst-case scenarios.

"I'm not speeding. I'm only driving 10 km over the speed limit; everybody drives that fast."

"The faster you go, the more gas you use," she said slowly and carefully, visions of their car crashing into other cars and exploding, running through her mind. "Gasoline is expensive."

"You haven't slowed down." She tried to keep the alarm out of her voice as she not-so-subtly told him to slow down.

He still said nothing. She made a show of looking at his speedometer, hoping he would get the hint. _She_ didn't think she was a bad person for wanting them to be safe.

"You drive like your father," she said. "You've gotten a lot from your father—his blunt way of addressing people, his stinginess, his self-centered nature... I take after my mother: we're both very practical." They had had conversations like this before; she knew he thought she was being disrespectful, but she was only reporting facts. Besides, she'd read somewhere that the best relationships were based on honesty; if she hid what she felt about his parents, it would come out later in the form of resentment.

Speaking of resentment, she remembered talking to Miaka about what they were going to wear to the reception. "Miaka's wearing an evening gown to the reception,"

"Okay,"

How could he not see where this was going? "That means I have to have one," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because otherwise Miaka will look better than I do," she shrugged. She thought that was obvious.

He looked at her sideways. "I think you're pretty no matter what you wear," he said.

She rolled her eyes. She knew she wasn't pretty. She also knew that no matter what he was after, if he wanted to keep up the pretense of being her boyfriend, he had to say things like that. "You have to say that. You're my boyfriend."

"No, actually, it's true."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then you're stupid, because I'm ugly."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am! Look at my nose!"

"It looks fine to me."

Of course it did, he wasn't even looking. "It's all misshapen."

"Okay..."

"Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I'm really angry at Miaka right now."

"Why?"

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "I just told you! You really don't listen, do you? I'm angry with her because she's wearing an evening gown, and now I have to buy one, and I don't have the money!"

"I'll buy it for you,"

She was sure he would, but it seemed lately that anything he bought for her was supposed to be paid back later—she thought it would be nice if he would buy her gifts without resenting that she didn't pay him back. Isn't that what boyfriends were supposed to do?

"That's not the point, either." She hated when he picked at her reasons for being angry. Couldn't she be unreasonably angry without him pointing it out? Maybe she liked being angry sometimes. "I don't want to have to go shopping. I hate shopping. Nothing ever fits right. It's not fair of Miaka to make me have to do this."

He gave his patented noncommittal grunt, probably hoping it would save him from the rest of the conversation.

"I have to pee,"

He looked at her in amazement. "We just stopped! Why didn't you go then?"

"I didn't have to pee then," she said. "Obviously."

"Fine," he said shortly. She didn't know what his problem was—was it hurting him physically to have to pull over?

He pulled over at the next gasoline stand. She noticed him looking around the store when she went into the stall, and when she came out he was still searching for something.

"What are you doing?" she asked impatiently. She thought they were in hurry. Why had he been so upset about stopping in the first place if he was going to waste time looking for something?

"I'm trying to find Pocky," he said.

"Why?" she asked incredulously. "You can't possibly still be hungry."

"I'm not," he said, looking over another shelf and finally finding a box of Pocky.

"Then why are you buying it?" she asked sharply as he paid for it and they left. He always acted so stingy with money and then he did something like this. "We're in a hurry. And you shouldn't eat when you're not hungry, anyway. This is why you keep gaining weight."

"I didn't buy it because I wanted it," he said. She was confused. Why would you buy something that you didn't want?

They got back into the car and he pulled back into traffic. "You have to go slower, Tetsuya," she said. "Remember, this car is full of my stuff, and I don't want any of it to knock against anything and break."

"Right," he said, nodding.

"I'm going to read out loud to you," she said, fishing a book out of her bag. Reading to herself in the car always made her sick; it helped to read aloud. It was an English romance novel. She loved romance novels because the heroines in them always lived happily ever after—why couldn't that have happened in her book?

She looked up when he stopped making grunts to show that he was listening.

"Tetsuya, you're not listening." Why didn't he tell her that he didn't want to listen to her book? If he told her he didn't want to listen, she would still read aloud, but maybe she wouldn't be angry that he wasn't listening.

"Yes, I am," he replied.

"No, you're not," she could tell when he wasn't listening: his face took on a kind of blank look. "What was the last thing I just said?"

She watched as he struggled for an answer. She knew he hadn't been listening to her. Tetsuya, Miaka, Nakago—why did she surround herself with selfish people?

"I'm not sure," he said quickly. "I'm... I'm not as good at English as you are. I don't understand what's going on."

She looked closely at him, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. She decided that he hadn't been listening, and determined that an insult to his intelligence would punish him for it.

"You are so stupid," she laughed.

As he took off his glasses, she wondered if maybe he'd had enough and would break it off. Maybe this was the time he would push back and hurt her. Maybe… and maybe that was all she understood anymore.

She let out a sigh of relief as he put his glasses back on. Maybe not.

Maybe this was love.

Author's note—This story is a companion to piece to "Through a Glass, Darkly" by Kelfin, and can be found on fanfiction . net


End file.
